In The Silence

In your silence I see colours, speech crumbling like flaking paint, dried; truth dripping from lips, black spittle on a brush. In the silence I inhale the scent of a feeling, what you think of me curdles from willows to weeds; from ivy once intoxicated to rotten root. In this silence I taste our time together, a history in meat chopped / diced, fried in oil burning; our future an incomplete recipe, lost.